


A Haunted House

by Filmsterr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, Episode: s01e17 Hell House, First Kiss, Ghosts, Halloween, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Pining, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 04:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12499252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filmsterr/pseuds/Filmsterr
Summary: "Are you scared?” he whispered, even though he didn’t think he had to be quiet. He didn’t know whether he wanted Cas to say yes or no.Dean had figured, when deciding what he should do in regards to bringing a boy he definitely had a crush on into a house he knew to be housing at least one angry phantom, that the idea wasn’t without its upsides. After all, if Cas got a little scared, he’d probably need someone to cling on to. Maybe he’d want to wrap around Dean’s arm, or even just to hold his hand would be pretty nice...“More than I thought I’d be, honestly,” Cas answered him after a moment of reflection. “Are you?”Of old Mr. Murdoch, of my uncle Bobby, of the way I feel when your face is really close to mine…Dean swallowed loudly. “Yeah. I’m scared.”





	A Haunted House

**Author's Note:**

> TIME TO GET SPOOKY
> 
> Halloween is my favorite holiday and I am so thrilled to be able to share a themed story with you all! I've had this one cooking for about a year so I'm happy to finally be putting it out there.
> 
> Happy Haunting, y'all

“No way,” Jo declared in her firmest voice. “No, thank you. Nuh-uh.”

They were gathered in Ash’s basement on a regular Thursday night. There was no beer, no ruckus. Just a normal, do-nothing kind of evening. 

“Yeah, there’s no way you could make me go in that creepy-ass rickety-old shack,” added Charlie from where she rested on a beanbag next to an ancient television set, “Even if it weren’t haunted, you’d definitely catch something airborne. Probably asbestos.”

Dean sat perched in the corner of the room, watching quietly as the discussion grew more excited. For him, just getting to sit in a ratty old Lazy-Boy in some dank cellar was enough. It had been a long time since he’d gotten to be a part of something like this… just a couple of normal teenagers, with nothing to do on a Thursday night. 

No reason to stalk into a graveyard at two in the morning, no moving from one rum-socked motel room to the next, night by night. 

“What do you think, Deano?”

He raised his head, a dazed kind of smile playing at his lips still. “Huh?”

Ash, one cigarette hanging from his lips like he enjoyed being some kind of walking cliché, repeated his question from across the room. “The Old Murdoch place. You think it’s haunted?”

Dean’s smile flickered at the edges for a second before he caught it. “Oh,” he muttered dismissively, “I don’t really know about that.”

Dean didn’t have to speculate as to whether or not the Murdoch house might be haunted, because he knew without a doubt that it was definitely haunted. He’d been told as much by Bobby himself, and in the same breath Bobby had expressly forbid him from stepping his ass so much as in the general vicinity of that old death trap. 

A soft voice rose from the corner of the room. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I just want to check it out.”

Dean’s eyes followed the sound of sweet melodic words to the mouth they’d come from: pretty, pink-colored, lips on perfectly golden skin, all underneath a mess of dark brown hair that looked like the result of wild thoughts. 

Castiel Novak. He was definitely the prettiest person Dean had ever seen. When he’d first found himself falling in with Jo and her friend group, Dean had felt weird about thinking those things about a boy. Now, though, it had been almost three months since he’d seen his dad, and no one around here seemed to say things like “faggot” or “pretty boy” to anyone else. So it felt safe. 

“Well, you’re not getting me to go with you,” Charlie outright insisted. “Me neither,” from Jo. Before Cas could even ask, Ash took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled a cool, “Truly sorry, my amigo, but even I know better than to wrangle with the like of an ornery spectre.”

And like an axe falling from a guillotine, in one fell swoop he was done for. Dean knew that moment was it. 

Because the instant Cas turned to him, that sweet, carefree happiness on his face, there was no way he could say no. 

“Dean?” he said softly, and Dean really liked the way his name sounded when Cas was the one saying it. “Would you come with me to check it out?”

Dean’s jaw set firmly. He hedged internally, though he already knew what his answer would be. “Yeah. I’ll go with you, Cas.” 

And then Cas had smiled at him in that way Dean had seen him smile at other people sometimes, with such unbridled joy. Dean was so happy to have that smile directed at him. He might just have to do whatever it takes to keep that smile focused on him. 

 

Which was how he now found himself, flashlight in hand, tromping through a densely wooded area to get to a house which housed a ghost that had resulted in no less than seven dead in the past decade. 

On the night before Halloween. The one day where Bobby had threatened to kick his ass back to the boy’s home if he tried any funny business. 

But, Cas was walking really close behind him, and when he breathed out Dean could see the little puffs of air like clouds, which made him feel all warm inside and like maybe this was all worth it?

It wasn’t, but it felt like it.

Then, their feet landed on the front yard and Dean shined his flashlight on the front door of the house. It wasn’t the first haunted place Dean had seen- far, _far_ from it- but it definitely wasn’t inviting. 

“Are you scared?” he whispered, even though he didn’t think he had to be quiet. He didn’t know whether he wanted Cas to say yes or no. 

Dean had figured, when deciding what he should do in regards to bringing a boy he definitely had a crush on into a house he knew to be housing at least one angry phantom, that the idea wasn’t without its upsides. After all, if Cas got a little scared, he’d probably need someone to cling on to. Maybe he’d want to wrap around Dean’s arm, or even just to hold his hand would be pretty nice...

“More than I thought I’d be, honestly,” Cas answered him after a moment of reflection. “Are you?”

_Of old Mr. Murdoch, of my uncle Bobby, of the way I feel when your face is really close to mine…_

Dean swallowed loudly. “Yeah. I’m scared.”

They stood there on the front lawn together without moving, their breaths held in their throats. 

Dean felt the weight of the iron bar he’d brought pressing against his leg. He shoved it into his sock while he was getting ready. You know, just normal date stuff. Not that this was a date. Not yet, at least. 

It was just an insurance policy, the iron rod. Under no circumstances did Dean intend to get ganked tonight. And he wasn’t going to put Cstiel in harm’s way either. Even though they probably wouldn’t even see old Mr. Murdoch. Probably.

“Maybe we should just go now?” Dean proposed uneasily. “We can tell everyone we went in.”

Castiel peered over at him sideways and Dean saw how long his eyelashes were. “Dean Winchester, who knew you’d be such a baby about a little old ghost?”

_Not little. Vicious. Murdery._

But Dean couldn’t have Cas thinking things like that.  “Okay,” he said, puffing out his chest a bit, “Let’s go, then.”

So, he let Cas lead the way up onto the creaky steps, but he stepped up and overtook him then. He might not be the one who's clamoring to get in the old place, but he's certainly not going to let Cas lead the way like some headstrong idiot.

That's what Dean was there for. 

He wanted to insist that they stay close together, but he didn’t want to give Cas another reason to think that he’s a wuss. So instead he tried to keep and eye on where Cas was at all times and never let him leave a room without Dean knowing. 

They’d been inside for about ten minutes, which is five minutes longer than Dean thought necessary, when Dean had had enough. He was tense, and one hundred-percent sure that something was going to pop up any minute now. “Alright, Cas, I think it’s time to go.”

He tried to say it with voice of authority- which he should have, since haunted houses and ghosty-shit was actually firmly in his territory. Flirting with boys, he didn’t know shit about. But pumping a ghost-dude full of salt shrapnel? That he could do in his sleep. 

But Cas didn’t seem to buy it. He swirled around in the middle of the kitchen, a fake no-worries smile plastered on his face. “You don’t really believe in this stuff, do you?”

Dean said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the door way behind Castiel’s shoulder. He wondered where it went. 

“You think there’s really a ghost here?” Castiel laughed aloud, and Dean hated the way it made him feel; until he added, “Hm, and here I thought I was with the bravest boy in school-”

“You think I’m brave?”

That felt nice. Cas calling him brave… that felt very nice. In a warm apple pie on a Sunday afternoon kind of way. 

A playful tilt entered Cas’ voice. “Among other things."

It suddenly felt like Dean was anywhere but in the dilapidated kitchen of this rundown shack, felt like they were back in Ash’s basement, or maybe parked in a car by the beach, watching the waves crash in. Dean felt like he could cross the room, close the gap between them and maybe feel the--

Before the thought could even finish, the door behind Cas was propelled open and a grey figure was lunging at him. It just barely brushed Cas' side before Dean reached out and tugged him away.He tucked Cas up behind him and pushed them both back, up against a kitchen counter, and then sized up his opponent. 

Murdoch was pretty much what Dean had pictured, a shriveled old man with a face contoured by anger. Seeing the rage in his dead eyes did nothing to Dean. 

Behind him, Cas was silent, paralyzed. Whether he realized what he was seeing or not Dean didn’t know. But what he did know what was to do, and he had come prepared. He pulled the rod out from under his pant leg and swung it once, firmly, sliding right through the the spectral figure in front of him. The ghost disappeared, but Dean knew they didn’t have long. 

He turned around to look at Cas, aware that he was panting heavily, adrenaline pumping through him like a river. It had been a while since he’d been on a hunt. Under different circumstances, it might have felt good to be back at it. 

But not tonight. Not right now. Because when he turned his head to look at Castiel, he found of blue eyes, shining back at him wide with fear. All the color had drained from Cas’ face, and his lips quivered. He looked as if he were trying to say something, to choke some words out, but nothing seemed to come.

Dean itched to comfort him. His fingers twitched from wanting to run through Cas’ hair and pull him in tight, to tell him that it hadn’t been real and there was nothing to be afraid of. 

But he couldn’t. Instead, he clenched his jaw tight and straightened his shoulders. “We have to get out of here,” he commanded. Cas didn’t seem to be putting up any fight. 

Just as Dean was about to grab him and make a run for it, the basement door slammed open a second time, and all eyes went to it. This time, it wasn’t an malicious ghost that came out, but it was something that filled Dean with significantly more fear.

“Bobby, I can explain--” he managed to get out as his flannel-clad uncle stormed across the floor, a shotgun in hand. He felt Cas cowering behind him, trying to make himself small. But Dean was more focused on the rage in Bobby’s eyes as he approached the two of them. 

“Boy, what in the hell are you doing here?” he demanded to know. “Didn’t I tell you to keep out? Didn’t I say tonight specifically to keep your butt as far from here as possible?”

Dean looked down at the dust-covered floor. “Yeah,” he muttered quietly. 

“You lookin’ to get yourself killed?”

“No, sir.”

Bobby gritted his teeth and grunted, “I got half a mind to tell your father about this.”

Dean didn’t want that. He didn’t want to leave just yet. But he knew that Bobby was mad. He’d disobeyed him, deliberately

An angry clattering sound came from another room and both Bobby and Dean straightened to attention. The older man regarded Dean again, his eyes softer at the edges. He tightened his grip on the gun in his hand. “You get your ass out o’ here and you run right back home.” He peered over Dean’s shoulder. “And you get that boy where he belongs.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean barely clipped out, and then Bobby took off toward the commotion in the other room. Before he could even think about it, Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and tugs him through the decrepit kitchen and out the back door, through the yard filled with uncut grass and old tractor parts, until they were far enough way that it seemed safe.

He stopped and took a few minutes to catch his breath. They’d been running the whole way, practically sprinting- which wasn’t his normal protocol when it came to ghosts but he’d been equally as eager to get away from Booby as he was from old man Murdoch. 

And Cas. Poor Cas had been scared shitless of that thing. Dean wanted to get him out of there, wanted to keep him safe and protected. He was so pissed at himself for agreeing to bring Cas there, for letting his big, blue eyes make Dean forget that people here thought he was normal and didn’t know anything about shit like this.

He realized then how much time had passed since they’d been standing there, in total silence. Their hands were still connected, Castiel gripping him like a vice. Dean tried to release his hand, but Cas's fingers refused to let go. Dean relaxed, let their hands fall together between them, but he leaned in to ask, nervously, "...are you okay?"

He worried that Cas was going to have a heart attack or something. So he raised his eyes, cautiously, until he found Castiel’s-- still wide and fearful, gazing over at him like he’d just… well, like he’s just seen a ghost.

“What.. was that?”

The way he was looking at Dean, the total petrification on his face: it was like a nail in the coffin. A death sentence for Dean’s chance at a normal life here. 

Cas knew now. He knew the truth about Dean, knew that he wasn’t normal, that he wasn’t like everyone else. That he carried a fucking iron rod in his leg in case he had to fight any god damn evil spirits on a Saturday night. 

Jesus Christ, why had he even bothered to let himself get his hopes up?

He could kiss all that shit goodbye now. No more basement parties or after school hangouts. No more Ash or Jo or Charlie. And certainly no more Cas, not based on the way he was staring at Dean right now, his mouth hanging wide and his face just covered with disbelief. 

He may as well call his dad himself, save Bobby the trouble; convince him to swing by and grab Dean, so he can head back out on the road. It’d suck, but it would be better than staying here- better than having to go to school, which he sucked at anyway, and having to see Cas. 

Leaves crunched loudly underfoot and it caught Dean’s attention. He looked up once more at Castiel, who was now several steps closer to him. His eyes were still wide, but they were… different, now. It wasn’t like fear. It was like wonder. 

“Dean, you… you saved me,” he said, and his voice was so soft. A bird made a noise in the distance. Dean could hear the sound of his own heart still pumping from the adrenaline rush.

He blushed at the attention, coughing loudly to cover up his embarassment. “I-I didn’t really do anything.”

Cas approached slowly, with caution, the whites of his eyes shining in the moonlight. Dean watched it all like watching a movie, only the vaguest awareness that it was all happening to him. The way he leaned his head up was ever so slight, that it made Dean want to stay incredibly still just to make him keep leaning. 

Cas’ lips felt soft like clouds when they touched his. 

“That was the bravest thing I have ever seen,” he whispered, lips still pressing against Dean’s.

“Yeah?” 

Castiel’s voice was deadly serious. It might have been funny, if it weren’t the most important thing in Dean’s world right then. “Yes. You were so quick and you protected me. Thank you.”

He leaned in again, pressing his chest against Dean’s and reaching up to wrap his fingers around a fistful of hair. Dean allowed Cas to take the reins, let himself relax and be present and revel in the moment of his first kiss with another boy.

It was strange to feel so sappy, especially right then. It was not a Dean Winchester move.

Cas took a step back and regarded Dean. He took a deep breath. “I want to tell everyone what you did… it was so unbelievable.”

“You don’t have to do that." That sounded like a bad idea to Dean. He'd tried before at other schools to play the role of the hero. That wasn't what he saw for himself here. He smiled soft as his lips ducked in to chase after Castiel's. "But… you can keep thanking me if you want.”

When they left, finally, to return back home, Cas slipped his fingers in between Dean’s without a single word, and Dean knew without a doubt that this whole thing had definitely been worth it.

 

 

You have better believe that when Bobby got home that night, after the hunt, Dean got the verbal ass-whupping to end all ass-whuppings. Bobby shouted loud enough to break the china; Dean had oughtta learn to listen, he had to people who cared about him, and was he trying to get himself killed?

Dean took it all very seriously, listening with a straight face and muttering a remorseful apology every few minutes, even though he could tell Bobby was more scared than he was angry. When he was sent up to his room, leaving his uncle fuming behind him, Dean couldn’t help feeing a little pleased at another normal teenage experience: the talking-to.

He was going to tell Cas all about this, on their next date. Hopefully, someplace with a bit more ambiance, and a few less ghosts. 


End file.
